


Case #180203 Twist and Shout

by SunnieDays612



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Murder, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnieDays612/pseuds/SunnieDays612
Summary: Statement of an unknown person regarding their many questions and few answers
Kudos: 2





	Case #180203 Twist and Shout

**Author's Note:**

> An original statement for my avatarsona. That's it.

_[Tape clicks on]_

_[The Archivist is sitting in his office, sorting papers when something falls to the ground.]_

ARCHIVIST

Huh, Martin? Was that you? If you want to talk there's no need to push a letter through my door.

_[He opens the letter and removes it]_

ARCHIVIST

Ah, its a statement. Strange. I suppose Peter does not want me slacking. Well, let's see. Statement of, huh, the name is scratched out. Alright, statement of, an unknown person, regarding their many questions and few answers.

Statement begins

ARCHIVIST _(STATEMENT)_

Hello John, can I call you John? Or do you prefer Archivist? Not that it matters, I suppose. Names are such a meaningless thing, like bus timetables, or eyes. You probably don't think that yet, but I'm sure you will, at some point, probably. Sorry, this is proving hard for me to write. It's difficult to write in realities when you only exist in possibilities. I've heard you can make it easier to tell your story, but I suppose I would have to be there, yes? You cant help me write a letter I've already written. But I digress, I shall start at the beginning, my beginning, for this letter would be far too long otherwise, right?

I did have a name, I promise, but you'll forgive me for not mentioning it, as I feel it doesn't quite fit who I am now, okay? I was born at a very young age and had a very happy childhood, I think, I do seem very well adjusted, don't I Archivist? I suppose I can't really be asking you that question until we meet in person. Would you like to make an appointment? I do remember, however, I was always asking questions. Not just your classic child questions either, strange, questions, wanting to know information that I shouldn't have even known existed. Isn't that cute? My mother got worried, as you would expect a mother too, and my father got angry, I'm sure he could have found a better solution, wouldn't you say John? But my father was not a clever man, he thought with his fists, and that is how he answered my probing questions. sad, isn't it? I spent my childhood having the questions bubbling inside of me forced down and quieted. I suppose, looking back, that it was only a matter of time before they came bubbling up.

I was 17? 18 maybe? It is hard to remember, but I am now older than I was, I think? again, I'm sorry, definites are difficult for me. I was walking home from school, my school life was possibly even worse than my home one. Teachers claim they are there to answer questions, but when you ask a teacher why she is cheating on her husband, you don't even get an answer, just detention. Cruel, wouldn't you say John? I was walking home, my questions bubbling inside of me when I saw a door. I know, but I'm afraid my patron is not particularly imaginative it would seem. I had seen that door before, my parents had once sent me to a therapist, awful man, tiny and sharp, wouldn't eve tell me why he hated his wife's children. he told me when I wanted to ask a question, that I should imagine a door closing, shutting all the questions behind. I thought I'dd give it a try. The door I imagined was normal, It is actually quite difficult to imagine a particularly weird door, like, one where all the sides are different lengths, and the angles are all off. I guess that's a weird dorr, right? Anyway, the door I imagined wasn't like that. IT was a normal door, yellow. I was sure it was just a door, until I was walking home, and saw it. I know, you're thinking, how did you know it was the same door if it was just a normal door? Well, that's a good question John, but I don't know how to answer that, you'll notice that a running theme in my life. It was exactly like it, it just, felt right. I knew I had to knock on it.

So I did, it made a noise like my knock was echoing through some long corridor, which was weird because the door was free-standing in the middle of a park. I probably should have mentioned that earlier. It felt like the knock echoed forever, maybe it's still in there echoing around. Wouldnt that be nice? I think about it sometimes. I still see the door, but nowadays I am simply too busy to knock again. I heard someone coming to respond to my knock, on that fateful day. But I, and this is embarrassing for me to say, but I got scared. I was a child, you can't expect me to be a monster from birth, right Archivist? So I got scared, and I ran. I ran all the way home, letting myself in and hiding in my room. I stayed there, long after my father came home from work, and long after my mother came home from work. I was terrified, delightfully so, I must say, looking back now, but I refused to leave, I locked my door and barricaded it. I stayed there until my father broke the door down, with the help of his fireman buddies.

You'll excuse me for omitting what happened next, even in my current form, I do not wish to relive what happened after that. I will jump our little story back in later that night. My father preferred to do his crueller work in the basement of our house. always told my mother it was so he did not mess up the house, but I suspect it was so the neighbours wouldn't be disturbed. I stayed in the basement after he was finished, waiting. It was hard to move, he was tougher this time, and, lying there, it felt like he had shaken all those questions out, thrown that proverbial yellow door open. I was full of questions, and this time, I had no interest in pushing them back. I will refrain from telling you what I asked my father that night, I think it best for both of us, wouldn't you say Archivist? After all, if you're so desperate to find out, you can simply Know it. But I digress once more, I asked my father a question, and I asked my mother a question and he was found dead in our living room and she was never found again. I didn't kill her, but you already know that, don't you? I have seen her since, but she hasn't seen me, I wouldn't want her too. SHe didn't help me when I needed it, but she suffered too, so she didn't deserve what he did. I'm not a total monster, right John?

I left that evening, like my mother, the police could find no sign of me. I do not know how the case went, I must assume that they blamed us for the murder. That's fair I suppose, I was responsible after all, right? I travelled a lot after that, looking for more questions. Later that night I had no desire for answers, simply more questions, after all, I had just seen what questions could do. Surely you know al about the power of words, Archivist, after all, we're not so different you and I, right? Questions have toppled empires and torn down walls. Now, I'm sure I have taken up far too much of your time already, so I shall leave you with a question and an answer. We'll start with the answer, do not expect a lot of these from me. Be careful tomorrow John. Now my favourite part, the question. Whats a question wit no satisfying answer? This sounds like the set up for a joke, I do love jokes, don't we all, John? But I promise it's not, and promises are another thing you shouldn't expect from me. This is my question, I do not expect you to answer it, I am simply giving it to you, think of it as the price you pay for me giving you my statement. Thank you, Archivist, Toodles!

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Well. I can honestly say that I was not expecting this. Perhaps I should have seen it coming, this person certainly seemed aware of the fact I could know things, but judging by their obvious connection to the Spiral, I don't think trying to learn things about them would be worth the obvious headache it would bring. Now, I have done no follow up research, for obvious reasons, but I'm sure the patricide mentioned would make it easy enough to follow up, although, there is no mention of any location so that certainly puts a spanner in the works. Now, I am always hesitant to trust the Spiral, and the recent attack the Institute suffered while I was, incapacitated, perhaps the Spiral senses a weakness and is planning an attack? I cannot imagine why else an avatar would be warning me to be careful tomorrow. Maybe Helen knows this person, though, even if she did, I wouldn't really want to ask her about them. This statement has left me with more questions than answers, though, knowing what I now know about them, that may have been the point. End recording

_[Tape clicks off]_


End file.
